Story Swap with Erotic Author, Nikki Haze!

Today I have the pleasure to bring you a brand new story from the amazing erotic author Nikki Haze. If you’ve been by the blog recently, you may have seen a number of my reviews for her short stories. She’s a great writer and really needs to slow down. Just when I think I’ve read most of her stories, she puts out 3 more. It’s a never-ending battle and she keeps steaming along with sexy characters and encounters.

Haze and I have been helping each other out lately and not only was she a great help in me polishing up my first ever erotic story Breakfast in Bed, but she’s also responsible for my second erotic venture, Closing Time. What brought that story and the story you’re about to read into existence is the prompt you see below. We both took this prompt and the idea of writing a 500 word story off of it…well let’s just say we didn’t know when to stop. Nikki write about 800 words, and I doubled that.

I hope you enjoy Nikki Haze’s story. If you do, please let her know in the comment section below, or go stalk her on Twitter ;) We’d like to do this again in the future, so let us know you want more!

P.S. – These stories are technically part of Haze’s Quick and Dirty series. If you’d like to submit your own work, find more info about that here.

Prompt:
Female lawyer walks into a crowded bar in a rush and taps impatiently on the bar.  She collapses on the stool and waits for the whisky with her head in her hands.  Just as the bartender slides her the drink someone taps on her shoulder.

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Hate Fucking banner

Hate Fucking

Willow collapsed in the rickety wooden stool and snapped at the bartender for a double.  He was a grungy rocker who’d flirted shamelessly with her all week, but she was in no mood tonight.  She dropped her briefcase to the ground and removed her suit jacket.

He slid the amber liquid across the bar towards her and she downed it in one gulp, motioning for a second.  The courthouse was across the street so she was a regular at the bar.  Knowing her sad, sick behavior by now, the sexy bartender just gave her the whole bottle and nodded, his eyes full of pity.

Well, fuck him.

 

Willow had given up on filling the glass and was drinking straight from the bottle when someone tapped roughly on her shoulder.  She spun around and came face to face with the cocky slime of a defense attorney Shawn Tunkle.

“Are you fucking kidding me Tunkle?”

“Last call!” the bartended directed at them.

Willow shot him a poisonous look and he held out his hands in a conciliatory gesture.  The rest of the patrons began to pay up and file out.

“You’re a mess, Harris.  Giving up on the case so soon, are you?”

She turned around and tried to ignore him, but there wasn’t enough whiskey in the world to keep her from biting.  “Come here to gloat?”

Ignoring her question, he sat down on the empty stool next to her and took the bottle from her hand, tipping it backwards.  His eyes met hers as he gulped back the liquid.  The bar was empty, save for the two of them.  Even the bartender had disappeared to the back.

“Oh yeah, cozying up to the judge and playing dirty must really make you need a drink.”

He wiped his mouth and smiled at her.  “Worked up a real appetite for something.”

She scoffed and looked away, gritting her teeth as she grabbed the bottle back from him.  “Why are you here?”

“Wow, you really hate me,” he noted with mild interest.

“Oh Jeez, I’m sorry Tunkle, am I supposed to pretend I like you?”  She tipped the bottle upwards and opened up her throat to the sweet burn. Fucking cunt bucket with his arrogant fake white smile.

“When I hate someone you know what I do, Harris?”

“Enlighten me, shit bag.”

“I fuck them.”  His hand was on her knee, sliding up under the hem of her skirt.  She slammed the bottled down on the table and looked at him with her mouth hanging open as he slipped his fingers past her panties and found her clit.

She instantly responded to him, grabbing his hand and shoving his fingers deep in her cunt. He finger fucked her until she was close, rubbing her clit against the inside of his wrist.

“Take off your pants and lie down on the bar.”

He raised an eyebrow at her but stood and began unbuckling his pants.

“I’m the one that hates you.  I get to do the fucking, Tunkle.”

She slid off her panties and kicked off her heels as she waited for him to climb atop the mahogany bar.  His dick was big despite her assumptions but she told him otherwise.

“Small, huh?”  He fisted his length in his hand.

She nodded, “One of the smallest I’ve ever seen.”

“Are you guys fucking kidding me!”  She heard the bartender call out from the back entrance.  “Jesus Christ.”

Willow smiled at him as she hiked up her skirt.  “Call the fucking cops.  I’m the assistant District Attorney, let’s see if I decide to press charges against me.”  Willow closed her eyes and moaned as she sunk her pussy down onto Tunkle’s thick cock.

“She’s… ah, not kidding.”

“Shut up and rub my clit, asshole!”

Willow rode him hard as he twisted at her clit, pinching it hard between two fingers.  The bartender stood in the corner with his arms crossed, watching them her with intense interest.  Willow locked eyes with him as she came, gasping out her hatred for Tunkle as her toes curled and her body shuddered with her release.

Before allowing him to finish, Willow climbed off his cock and slid off the bar.  He muttered his disbelief at her leaving him high and dry.  He fisted his cock, lying back on the bar and jerking himself off as he swore at her repeatedly.

Hate fuck, Tunkle.  It was your idea.”  She picked up her bag and walked towards the back entrance where the bartender remained, staring at her.  “Good luck tomorrow, asshole,” she called back at him.

“Maybe if I end up winning tomorrow it will be you on that bar.”  She winked flirtatiously at the bartender as she walked out the door.  “Probably if I lose too,” she added before the door swung shut.

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About the Author:

Nikki Haze is a multi-published erotica author with a large twitter and blog following. She write’s about bi-curious and straight characters in decadent situations. She often writes about exhibitionism and group sex; usually both at the same time! She likes her climatic scenes to end with everyone covered in cum. The craziest place she’s ever had sex is her building’s lobby. She currently has over 20 titles available on Amazon

She loves to hear from fans and is a huge supporter of her fellow erotica writers! #writersunite

Website | Twitter | Goodreads | Amazon

A Few Exercise Poems

This is the second post of poetry I have for you all today. The first was only one poem that I titled “Little George and His Dogs.” Sounds cute doesn’t it? Well…just read it.

What I have for you this time is four poems. Two very short ones and two normal length ones. They all were created using a prompt from this site (
http://ofkells.blogspot.com/2008/04/30-writing-prompts-for-national-poetry.html
) just like “Little George” was. I urge you to remember I’m writing some of these just to get the writing juice going. I don’t expect people to be wowed by them, haha. I’m not.

I will present these with the prompt quoted, followed by the poem. Just like the poems, the titles for these poems were just thrown together fast as well.

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“14. Write an apostrophe to some abstraction (e.g., “To the End of the World” or “To My Birth”).”

To The End of the World

I know that it’s inevitable.
You will come no matter
what we do down here.
How could we avoid you?
All good things must
come to an end,
and all that shit.

I only really have
two questions.
I won’t ask:
“When do you
plan on coming?”
or
“How can we delay
your visit?”
those things don’t matter
that much to me.

What I would like
to ask is, simply,
how will you come
and will it be quick?
Basically: when I look
out my window one day,
Will I find an asteroid
or zombies?

Aside from that,
I hope you enjoy
Your visit to Earth.
Most of us here
haven’t had our fun.

Sincerely,
Curiously awaiting your visit.

“21. Write a piece at least 50 words long using only one-syllable words.”

With this one I ended up with 74 words. I also threw it into an online syllable counter just to check. I should technically have ended up with 74 syllables. Strangely, though, the counter told me I had 64 syllables in it from the 74 words. I really don’t know how that is possible, but at least I didn’t end up with over 74 syllables.

Will You Join Me?

When the sun
comes up on top
of the hill, I
step out of doors.
Fresh air fills my lungs.
The scent of pine trees
wakes me.

Where I live
in the woods,
my friends are the deer.
At times they are
birds who sing
from the trees.

Through a path
I walk to the lake
to say good day to
the geese and the fish.

I hope you will join me one day.

23. Take the name of a favorite poet and anagram it. Use this to begin a poem.

This one is funny…because I didn’t follow directions at all. I think it must have been because I rushed them and blah blah blah, more excuses for my mistake. For some reason I read this and was like “ok anagrams” but when I did the poems I did acrostic poems. It’s totally different. So here we have two acrostic poems using the last names of two of my favorite poets.

Robert Frost

For many years
Robert has
Opened the
Souls of poets
Throughout the world.

Walt Whitman

Walt
Has
Ignited my passion,
The Fuel for
My
Art.
Never will I forget that.

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I’m on the look out for different prompts now. Some of these were good ideas and I’ll use them soon. I think I need more than 30 so I can be more choosy though. And don’t worry. I have a few ideas for poems in my head. I hope to get them out very soon.

Little George and His Dogs

I’m trying to get back in the swing of things writing wise. I haven’t written a poem since…well the last one that was posted here (and one that I should be working on for the past month). I had the thought of finding writing prompts online last night, so I tweeted a bit to see if anyone knew of a good place for that. There haven’t been many responses as of yet, but I’m hoping some poems might take notice and give advice :)

I did a random google search this morning and found this site
http://ofkells.blogspot.com/2008/04/30-writing-prompts-for-national-poetry.html
 I figured, what can it hurt? So I looked at the first few and decided to start with prompt number two “Quickly pick out 12 words from the titles of books on a nearby bookshelf. Use them in a poem.” This is somewhat what I had in mind. A simple, yet fun, exercise to get the creative juices flowing. Not much thought needs to go into things like this and something funny might happen in the end…like I might write a great poem that I want to add to my collection.

Well what I came up with this exercise is not likely to end up in my collection but you can see it here. If you need some encouragement, it’s about zombies.

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Little George and His Dogs

Little George is safe.
He is living with his dogs
in a small house.
He has security.
It’s a tight squeeze
but it’s not unbearable.
He can’t pass judgment
on his living quarters.
It’s better than
venturing outside.
He would end up dead
in a fight against
the zombies.

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Books used (sitting next to me on my desk, almost staring me in the face):

Puerto Vallarta Squeeze (Robert James Waller)
Fight Club (Chuck Palahniuk)
Safe Haven (Nicholas Sparks)
What The Living Do (Marie Howe)
Bad Dogs Have More Fun (John Grogan)
How The Dead Live (Will Self)
The Unbearable Lightness of Being (Milan Kundera)
You Shall Never Know Security (J.R. Hamantaschen)
A Big Little Life (Dean Koontz)
George & Sam (Charlotte Moore)
The 9th Judgement (James Patterson)
Pride and Prejudice and Zombies (Seth Grahame-Smith…and Jane Austen if you want to count her)

note: The word “house” could be said to have been taken from “Darkhouse” (by Karina Halle), because it was also sitting in this pile. Even though the title is one word and not “Dark House” you can count if it you’d like. It would mean I pulled 13 words (14 if you count the repeat of “living”) but I don’t think it broke the rules. There were a few other books in the pile that I didn’t end up using…yes my stack is that big.